Hello, my name is Martha Grimstone. Shall I tell you my best secret? One day I’m going to be Lady Martha the Magnificent. I don’t know what my special talent is, but I hope to find it any day now. I live in a grand old house in a valley full of rare and thirsty herbs, which my grandfather uses to heal and comfort people. If only he would let me into his apothecary so I could work my very own spells . . .
I’m just going to put this out there: Asphyxia might well be the most talented lady in Australia.
Not only is she a writer, she’s a puppeteer, jewellery-maker, fine artist, teacher-of-Auslan and general Awesome-Creator-About-Town. In short, Asphyxia is the kind of person CS Lewis was talking about when he said that thing about thinking six impossible things before breakfast. I have complete faith Asphyxia thinks of at least thirty-eight.
I am an unashamed Asphyxia fangirl, as you can probably tell from my shameless gushing. I’d already read all of the Grimstones books before, and loved them so much I actually dreamed them. I wanted to be a Grimstone.
So it was kind of cheating for me to revisit them as part of this blog tour of Australian YA. Also, it was kind of cheating for me to include these books at all, as they’re not technically YA at all. But when the glorious new bindup of complete Grimstones danced into my favourite bookshop, I was so magnetised towards it that I was willing to eschew a rule or three.
I loved the books even more on second reading, particularly because they felt even more magnificent in this huge volume. There’s a grandeur about a big book and the Grimstones are totally deserving of grandeur. They are gothic, wicked, crazy and beautiful and I love them and I love Asphyxia and I totally DESERVED them after a couple of months of reading nothing but Very Literary Things (which were amazing and brilliant but NOT GRIMSTONES).
Everyone, y’all should get some Grimstones in your life. Find out more here.
Next, I’m cheating again. Because I totes suck at following rules. So I’m leaving Australia altogether and going fangirly (again) over the boundless amaze that is Bernard Beckett, and his newie, Lullaby.
Off I trot …